


Icarus

by Fatman_000



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Depressing, Depression, F/M, Ghosts, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, arkos, heavy on the bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatman_000/pseuds/Fatman_000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pyrrha wasn't the only one who died on that tower that dark, awful night.</p><p>Jaune just took longer to fall when his wings burned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to this, read the lyrics, and then listen to it while you read if you really wanna punish yourself. I think it fits Jaune's mental state in both the show and this story really fucking well.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_EWumK_ebI

He was shaking like a leaf caught in a storm, sobs wracking his entire body as he clutched her circlet to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. He clung to it jealously, knuckles white, points of bronze digging into his palms until they bled. Not that he cared. The sensation was minuscule compared to the anguish that gripped his chest like a vice, that turned his face a horrible red and screwed his eyes shut. Flay the flesh from my bones, tear the heart from my chest, burn me, drown me, surely anything else would hurt less than this. Less than Pyrrha dying.

The sight of it hurt more than the arrow that had killed her ever did. She'd gladly forsake Elysium for the chance to kiss the awful tears from his cheeks. To be able to hold him tightly to her breast and shower kisses to his flaxen hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his shaking subsided. To be able to tell him that everything would be okay. _Even though that's a lie_ _ **.**_ She thought. A traitorous voice that had pushed her into making one of the worst decisions of her life. _The world comes first. He's only one boy. What I want is irrelevant. I failed._

She remembered the feeling of his lips on hers. So gentle, but so passionate, so loving. His grasp, so unsure, but so strong and desperate. All of it a bitter reminder of what destiny had so cruelly denied her. She had to have died for a reason. The sight of her beloved blond knight curled into a ball in agony made her wonder if any reason in the entire universe was worth this suffering.

She wasn't the only phantom haunting the ruin of Beacon and the Kingdom of Vale now. So many of her classmates, so many innocent civilians, so many heroic Atlesian military men, cut down in the prime of their lives, leaving behind broken families and grieving friends.

She tried to hold him, to take some of his pain away, to kiss his eyelids and bring about the bright, goofy smile that she had fallen in love with, if only for a moment. But phantoms are wretched creatures, bound to the suffering of their loved ones, and powerless to help them. All she could do was imagine the solidity of his body and the warmth of his lips as her hands passed through him, and the latest in a deluge of ephemeral tears ran down her cheeks. They felt real to her, wet and hot like trails of fire, but nothing but air to the grieving boy.  _ What use is a guardian angel that cannot be seen or heard or touched? _ She wondered as Jaune cried himself to sleep, chanting her name like a mantra. “Pyrrha, Pyrrha, Pyrrha, Pyrrha... Please... Come back...”

 

He hadn't slept in three days. He looked like a walking corpse and felt like one too. Whether his eyes were red from exhaustion or crying was a complete mystery. _ It's better that way _ . He thought.  _ I need to be strong for Ren and Nora now. _

He carefully hid any sign of weakness under a sombre mask whenever they crossed paths outside. Goofy Jaune wasn't needed right now. Neither was dorky Jaune or adorable Jaune or happy Jaune.  _ None of them were ever needed. If you weren't such a useless weakling she'd still be here _ .

Nora had scarcely gotten out of bed in the time since Pyrrha had died, and Ren, ever stalwart Ren, had dutifully stayed by her side. Even his stoic mask had cracked when Goodwitch had delivered the news, alongside the one of the only things left of their beloved partner, her circlet. He functioned, for the most part, but still cried when he thought no one was looking.

They had decided to remain JNPR. Pyrrha, though they had only known her for a year, would be a part of them forever, in heart, soul, and spirit if not in body.

Far from the opulent halls of Beacon, JNPR had holed up in a ratty motel on the outskirts of the city, in two separate rooms, away from prying eyes and even concerned friends and instructors. They wanted privacy and peace to mourn, and thankfully Goodwitch had let them go without trouble, just a stern warning to stay in contact, and to be careful, as well as an offer of a shoulder to cry on, and counseling if they needed it.

_ You relied on Pyrrha to make you stronger. You relied on Ruby and Weiss to help her. She's dead and it's all your fault. Because you were too weak to help her... to help anyone. All because you were so weak you needed to use others as crutches to prop yourself up. _ He looked into the mirror of his bathroom, dirty and scratched, and Pyrrha could see the first stirrings of hatred in his eyes, all of it directed at himself. “I'm the fucking worst...” Were the first words he'd said in four days, and Pyrrha's heart broke.

 

There was going to be a memorial. A candlelight vigil. There was so much death, the mind boggled. It felt like nearly everyone in the city had lost someone, and at times Goodwitch's speech would be drowned out by shrieks of agony from families and groups of friends. The living crowd weren't the only ones who suffered. Pyrrha was dead, she counted herself among the spectral horde that agonized themselves alongside families and friends and lovers that they would never touch again. Some futilely tried to reach out, to bring some measure of comfort to their loved ones.

The human heart is a curious thing. The desire for self preservation should override any genuine feelings of altruism, and yet the heart drives people to forge bonds with others, and empathy drives them to take on pain that isn't theirs, even to the self's detriment. Pyrrha would give anything to take on Jaune's pain, and she knew he returned the sentiment. She would take it a hunderedfold if only he would laugh again, and it would all be worth it. But an impossible distance separated them now, and all she could do was look on sadly as Team JNPR and Jaune's family joined the throng of mourners, holding candles with badly shaking hands.

She had always wanted to meet Jaune's sisters, but never imagined it would be under such awful circumstances. They were all beautiful blondes, five older and two younger, and crowded around what remained of Team JNPR with comforting hugs and desperately needed closeness while his parents had stayed off to the side. Closeness Pyrrha wanted with every fibre of her soul to be a part of.

Glynda Goodwitch had been calling the names of the fallen. “Pyrrha Nikos.” She called out, casting her gaze to the JNPR remnants and the Arcs. Jaune started sobbing, his voice coming out in a high pitched whine. His hands trembled even more violently, as if the candle weighed more than he could bear, and she could see blood trailing from his lip, where he had bitten down in a desperate attempt to stop the tears. His sisters held his shaking body as tightly as they could, and Pyrrha held his face in her hands, imagining the warmth of his skin, and pressed a ghostly kiss to his lips. If she pretended with all her might, she could taste the metallic tang of blood.

 

Ruby had come forward with a very interesting proposition. Team up with her and investigate Haven, where the lunatics who had seen Beacon destroyed and where the bitch that killed Pyrrha hailed from. Beyond that, communication between the kingdoms had been effectively nonexistent, and this meant his team had an important mission to undertake. Doctor Oobleck had personally delivered Pyrrha's shield to them, and they realized that Pyrrha's family needed to be notified. They deserved to know that she had died a hero.  _ The also need to know who the worthless sack of crap who got her killed was. _

They had to prepare. It would take about a month. He had resumed his training, adopting the same schedule that he had while under Pyrrha's tutelage. He trained on the rooftop of the motel, under the stars, just like they used to. Pyrrha at first felt a swell of pride, but it turned to dread as he kept going. His stance was immaculate, but the movements were wasteful. He was putting far too much power into every swing, and he was ignoring her advice about taking rest periods. He continued on like that for five hours, pushing himself to the limit of exhaustion and far beyond. He eventually collapsed, and Pyrrha rushed to his side.

“Why?! Why am I SO WEAK?!” He screamed.

“You're not weak,  _ amica mea _ . You're strong and smart and beautiful.” She chided tearfully, a whisper of the dead to the air.

Tears ran down his cheeks. “It should've been me...”

“Don't say that! I made my choice... As much as I regret it... Please don't do this to yourself...”

“I know you wouldn't want me to think like this, but... I miss you.”

“I miss you too...”

“You had so much more to give than me, and... I... I don't understand...”

“You gave me love, Jaune. Friends.” A dream. One she had entertained in moments of fancy and lovestruck heartache. A vision of a house in a field of wheat, with two little children, daughters with hair of gold and crimson and eyes of emerald and sapphire. A dream that died when Cinder's arrow pierced her heart. Love is foolish. It was a dream she sacrificed so he, and all her friends could be safe, no matter how much it hurt that she would never be a part of their lives again.

_ I failed. _ The thought never lost its sting. “A future.” She tried to grasp his hand in hers, and like always, it passed through. It remained solid to her spectral body, and she gently laid her head on her hands, and it was almost as if she was touching his hand to her head. “I sacrificed mine so you could live yours, please don't waste it on me... I'm merely a phantom now.

 

Jaune had changed. Or maybe they were simply seeing him as he truly was. Before Pyrrha had come into his life Jaune had been a scared, meek boy, pretending to be a great warrior. Bullied at school and dismissed at home, his sense of self respect was in tatters before Pyrrha began sowing the seeds of greatness into him. With her gone, every anxiety he'd suffered had returned in force tenfold. The beautiful, glittering seeds of a great man, a great huntsman, and a great lover died in the earth they'd been planted in.

Ren and Nora were coping far better than Jaune had, they had each other, and while his family had done their best to be supportive in light of what had happened, both in the recent and distant past, he had remained sullen.

He'd been eating improperly, training himself to exhaustion every night, and avoiding sleep. The nightmares were horrid, and he often screamed and thrashed in the night. The romantic and sexual dreams were worse. He was grieving, yes, but he was still a hormonal teenage boy, and when they happened they seemed to be the only times Jaune would be genuinely happy. Visions of sweat slicked skin and screams of delight and moans of pleasure would haunt his dreams, visions of stolen looks and loving, chaste kisses would haunt them too, and when he awoke to the bitter reality, he'd gather his blankets in his arms and weep bitterly until the rays of dawn broke the over the smoking horizon.

 

He was undoubtedly still in a bad place, but one night had changed everything for the worse. Ruby's uncle, Qrow Brawnen, had been searching through Beacon for something important, and he'd happened across something in the dorms. In person, he'd delivered Pyrrha's scroll, and in doing so worsened wounds that had never even had a chance to heal. Pyrrha's heart ached as she watched him obsess over the battered piece of technology. Over little love notes she'd never had the courage to send, pictures of her past, pictures of her friends and experiences at Beacon. So many pictures were of him. Being goofy. Being sweet. Being amazing.

The worst part was when he'd discovered her voice mail, one dark night, curled in his bed. _Hello, this is Pyrrha Nikos! I'm sorry I can't talk right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you soon!_

“This is my fault!” He wept.

“Please... _Amica mea_... My dearest, sweetest love... Be brave...” She soothed.

_Hello, this is Pyrrha Nikos! I'm sorry I can't talk right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you soon!_

“This is my fault!”

“Be strong...”

_Hello, this is Pyrrha Nikos! I'm sorry I can't talk right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you soon!_

“What do I do... I... I need you... Please... What am I supposed to do..?”

“Be the beautiful boy I fell in love with in that forest, no matter how long it takes.”

_Hello, this is Pyrrha Nikos! I'm sorry I can't talk right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you soon!_

“I was too... too...” _Weak? Slow? Stupid?_

Whatever little remained of the Jaune she loved died in that room. Just like her, he didn't leave a corpse to mourn.

 

Ren and Nora had each other. They'd lost their home, but the Battle for Beacon had proven that some things can't wait. They grieved for Pyrrha, held her sacrifice close to their hearts, and finally confessed their love for one another one snowy day. For them, everything spawned from the battle had formed a bittersweet reminder of the importance of seizing the day. They confessed their love, and were at last together-together, as Nora would say.

Jaune hated them. He hated himself for hating them. He thought he was happy for them too, but he couldn't fight the thorns of jealousy and loss that wrapped themselves around his heart ever tighter. He had what they had. For one glorious minute Pyrrha and he had understood and loved one another and shined brighter than any star in the sky, and then it had been snatched away. For one glorious moment, their dreams had come true.

He thinks he's happy for them, but happiness is something he's lost familiarity with.

 

Crying was something he'd been doing a lot of. Everything reminded him of Pyrrha. He'd been walking by a fashion store, advertising a white dress trimmed with purple, and burst into tears as the memory came unbidden into his mind. _ He wore a Dress for ME!!! Does he feel the same way as I do? _ Pumpkin Pete's cereal was rewarded with a thousand yard stare.  _ I really hope Jaune doesn't find out that I've been cheating my diet a little... I've been giving him so much grief about proper nutrition! _ SDC brand Dust made bile rise in his throat, a tidal wave of self loathing and anger.  _ I wonder if he likes girls with off side ponytails? Or is it because I am too tall? To muscular? _ Every memory they ever shared together, all the good times, forever tainted with pitiless sorrow, and all the wonderful times and beautiful memories that will never be. The worst times were when he saw a child with blonde hair and green eyes or red hair and blue.  _ It's normal to fantasize about raising a child, right? Or two? Having a big happy family? ... I... think Jaune's the one. I want to grow old with him, have kids with him, own a house with him... _

Amazing, how a dream that brought one such joy, could bring another such profound pain. She loved him, and he'd been too stupid to appreciate her until it was too late.

_ It's always too late for you. Isn't it, you braindead tool? _

 

He'd locked himself in the bathroom after midnight, when everyone else had gone to sleep. Pyrrha didn't need to sleep anymore, so she saw everything. Saw him walk into it with a few rolls of medical gauze... and Crocea Mors. She dreaded passing the door into the bathroom, hesitating about intruding on his privacy. But if he was about to do what she thought he was...

Her phantasmal form passed through the barrier and saw her beloved staring into the mirror, The seed of hatred she spied only a few short weeks ago had bloomed. It corrupted every one of his beautiful features. She'd never seen anyone look at anything with such terrible loathing in her entire life, not even from Cinder. He was breathing heavily, his face and locks soaked with freezing cold water.

“Don't forget, Arc. You deserve this.”

She knew it was pointless to try talking to him, but she needed to make him understand, needed to help him. She swore she would when she unlocked his Aura.  _ By my shoulder, Protect thee. _ “Don't do this Jaune... Please... You have done nothing wrong.”

He unsheathed Crocea Mors, to Pyrrha's immense panic.

“This is for pining after Weiss... God, I'm such an asshole...” The sword dug into his flesh, he gasped as it made a shallow, but noticeable cut, lining the edge with blood.

“No... Jaune... Stop...”

“This is for hurting Pyrrha. For everything you never gave her.” Another cut.

Tears trailed down her face freely. “You gave me everything I ever wanted Jaune... Please stop punishing yourself...” She sobbed.

“This is for dragging down everyone you care about.” Another cut.

“You took me higher than the sun... You made the real me mean something...”

“This is for being a stupid, insensitive coward...” Another cut.

“It was a mistake! You never meant any harm! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO YOURSELF?!”

Her pleas, her supportive grasps, illusory nothingness to the living. He cut a series of bloody lines down his left arm, gasping at the sting. It could never compare to what Pyrrha had endured as she died. Blood dripped in little red lines from the cuts, it looked almost pretty as he added more and more.

Pyrrha couldn't even talk anymore, so she wept. Her knight was destroying himself, and she was helpless to do anything. Despite everything she'd done to save him, he was dying before her eyes regardless. Was this his destiny? To be broken by her very memory?

Disgust at what he'd done mingled with an odd satisfaction, a lightness in his heart he hadn't felt in aeons. His face was inscrutable. “I want to be strong for you Pyrrha... But... I don't know if I can... I miss you so much...”

“I miss you too...” She whimpered.

 

They'd met Ruby, the atmosphere uncharacteristically quiet. No one really wanted to talk, understandably enough.

The road to Mistral was long, and filled with Grimm, and Jaune took the opportunity to indulge in the skills he had honed. Pyrrha's skills. The sword of Crocea Mors hung at his hip, and Akouo hung from his back. Anything that hid itself behind a white mask with red markings and anyone who called themselves their allies were his enemy. They killed Pyrrha. They deserved to die, every last one of them.

It felt like a lifetime ago that he'd genuinely led his team. His tactical awareness was one of the things that the professors of Beacon had praised him for.  _ Fat load of good it did Pyrrha in the end _ .

Whenever they encountered Grimm on the road, where he used to shout orders to the team for the most efficient solution, he now barked only one. “Hang back!” He'd charge, screaming in rage, Akouo raised to defend him. She knew what he was doing. He charged and fought like he had a death wish. It was the same when White Fang remnants hunted their group down in a small village. Armed with automatic weapons and armoured jeeps, the smart thing to do would be to set up Ruby on a sniper perch while letting Nora blast the jeeps apart with Magnhild.

Jaune just barked “Hang back!” charged and hacked them to pieces, blocking automatic gunfire with Akouo. He was a black whirlwind of death fuelled by hatred so caustic it corroded everything it touched.

A desire to protect his friends had mutated into psychotic hatred for anything that would do them harm. His dream to be a Huntsman warped into a lust for battle simply for its own sake. His love for his friends, his love for her, twisted into savage loathing for himself and his failings, past and present, perceived or real.

She took in the trail of carnage that he had left behind with perverse pride and profound worry. Who knew the boy who could barely swing his sword a scant year ago would be tearing his enemies apart with such manic ferocity? It excited and scared her. He could, at the very least, take care of himself, but what had it cost him?

He was still cutting, desperate for a release for the sorrow that still gnawed at his heart with ever increasing viciousness. Long ago he'd told her he hated his weakness, but destroying himself with that hatred couldn't be the answer.

His Aura, once vibrant and filled with life, love, happiness and light, had become black with rage and hate and sorrow and regret.

The others weren't blind to his downward spiral. It was hard to miss the fact that the Grimm, wretched monsters drawn by negativity, had started targeting him specifically in their skirmishes, to the exclusion of everyone else.

“We're worried about you Jaune.” Nora had said from her seat at the campfire.

“You've taken Pyrrha's death the hardest out of all of us, but... this is killing you.”Ren contributed.

“We miss the old Jaune... The one who who'd nerdgasm over  _ X-Ray and Vav _ and goof off in Port's lectures. I haven't seen you smile in a long time... I miss it.” Ruby said wistfully.

Jaune sighed. He was so, so tired. “That Jaune is gone. It's for the best that he never comes back.”

“But why?!” Ruby pleaded

“I miss my old leader!” Nora whined.

“Your old leader wasn't good enough, Nora. Not for anyone. It's better this way.”

Ren glared at him. “Is it really? I must ask if this is what Pyrrha would have wanted.”

Pyrrha watched the exchange and smiled. Jaune, however, was less than amused. “You know what I think Pyrrha wanted? More than anything else?” He glared. “To be alive with her friends.”

“She isn't. It now falls to us to carry her memory, and respect the things she cherished. Including you.”

“You don't think I know that?!” Jaune snapped. “ I know I've been doing a shitty job of honouring her memory, but I  _ have to do this! _ For everyone's sake!”

“What are you taking about Jaune?! How is doing this to yourself going to help us?!” Ruby cried.

“It's the only way I can get stronger so I can protect you!”

“Why do we need protecting? We're all Huntsman and Huntresses.” Ren observed.

“Combined? We wouldn't even be worth half of Pyrrha.” Jaune bit his lip and stared at the ground. “I need to protect you because I failed to protect her. Because I can't stand the thought of losing you all too, because you're all worth more than me...”

“That's not true!” Nora exclaimed.

“Yes it is! It always is! Everyone's more important than me. It's an immutable fact.”

“No it's not! You were smart and nice and-”

“Weak. I'm weak and I've always been, and it ends here.”

“Pyrrha made you strong, she'd want you to be strong for her.” Ren argued, his expression as stoic as stone.

“This is me being strong!” Jaune snarled. “This is me _finally_ pulling my fucking weight on this team instead of holding everyone back!”

“You never held us back Jaune!” Nora cried.

“YES I DID! I ALWAYS DID! EVER SINCE INITIATION ALL I'VE DONE IS HOLD YOU BACK!” Jaune screamed. He breathed heavily, staring off to the side as though he was debating something. “I faked my way into Beacon...” He said after a tense few moments. Everyone stared, as though they were seeing Jaune truly for the first time.

“Wh-what are you talking about Jaune?” Ruby asked meekly.

He took a deep breath as he finally decided to unveil the truth. “I got into Beacon using fake transcripts... I... I was never one of you guys. I was just some snot nosed kid who wanted to be a hero... I stole my weapons from my family, and pretended I was something I never was.”

Ruby was the first to recover. “You are a hero Jaune. You... You've always tried your hardest to do right by us, by everyone at Beacon.”

“And it wasn't enough.” He answered coldly.

Ruby moved to hug him. Her and Nora both had been more open with physical affection during their journey, hoping to coax out some remnant of the old Jaune they'd grown to love as a friend as fiercely as Pyrrha had as a lover. He stepped back, away from the light of the fire and halted her with three words. “She kissed me.”

Everyone's eyes widened. Ever since that terrible night, what had transpired between Jaune and Pyrrha had remained a secret between him and her grave. She could see them putting the pieces of what had happened together in their heads.

“Jaune...” Nora said weakly. They'd all had their suspicions about Pyrrha's last moments, but finally hearing the reality threw everything into sharp relief.

“She kissed me, then she pushed me into a locker to save my life while she went and committed glorified suicide! She fell in love with a useless loser who couldn't stand beside her when she needed it the most!” He spat with a wavering voice. “She spent all that time training me, helping me, protecting me, and in the end all I ever was in her moment of need was... Was the idiot stuck in the tree!”

“That's not what she thought and you know it, Jaune.” Ren lamented.

“What she thought and what the reality is are two very different things, Ren.”

“What she thought might be closer to the reality than you think, Jaune.”

“If I was a real Huntsman when I met her things would have been different. That's the reality.” He marched past the worried and weary faces of his companions and laid down on his cot, facing away from them. “Let's just get some sleep.”

“Jaune...” Ruby called weakly.

“Enough.” He snapped, his tone colder than snow that surrounded them. “Nora, you take first watch.”

The silence that descended over the camp was deafening. The sleeping hear no whispers, and so Pyrrha was the only one who heard the nearly silent hiss from Jaune's cot. “I wasn't worthy of Pyrrha, I wasn't worthy of any of you... Things would've been better if I'd never been born.”

 

Cinder's arrow had killed her. Pierced her heart and burned her alive. The memories she left behind were the arrow killing Jaune, one he gladly twisted deeper into his heart, ignorant, or worse, uncaring of how it froze him to the world.

 

They'd finally reached Haven when it had happened. The White Fang had launched an attack on the docks of Mistral, like they had a year ago in Vale. They'd agreed to help out the local authorities. Jaune had raged and slaughtered like a crazed animal, not even bothering to tell his teammates what to do anymore. The adrenaline pounding in his veins were the only way he could feel... Anything really. It was a rush, a high that enabled him to be the hero he'd always wanted to be. _Or die trying._

So what if White Fang foot soldiers were surrendering? So what if they were running for their lives? So what if they were begging for mercy? Mercy they didn't give Yang, or Penny, or Blake or any of the hundreds who died in Beacon's funeral pyre.

Mercy they didn't give Pyrrha.

Anything with a white mask with red markings must die. That is what he'd promised to himself. Justice for Pyrrha. Or was it vengeance? Did it even matter anymore? Crocea Mors thirsted for blood. Akouo hungered for flesh. Or was that him?

There was a foot soldier of the Fang that he had missed. He approached, soaked head to toe in gore, surrounded by remains that were barely identifiable as Faunus.

“P-P-Please don't k-kill me...” He'd sobbed. Or was it she? They sounded young enough that he couldn't tell. It almost gave him pause, before he remembered the mask they wore. The white mask with red markings is evil. It must be destroyed, anything that wears it must die. He'd raised Crocea Mors high above his head to strike the killing blow, when a weight had tackled into him, knocking him off balance but failing to take him down.

“Jaune, stop!” Nora cried. Pyrrha had cried it alongside her.

“Let me go.”  
“No! That's enough! Too many people've already died! When does it end?!” She'd sobbed. It was like she was channeling Pyrrha herself.

“It ends when we've killed them all. Now let me go.”

“No! They're just a kid! Can't you see that?!”

“They should have thought about that before becoming terrorist scum.”

“Are you even listening to yourself anymore?!”

Jaune had struggled in Nora's incredible grip. He was stronger now, and he was able to get loose enough to push her away.

It was a reflex. She'd moved to hold him again, and he'd struck her with Akouo. Hard. She tumbled to the floor while Jaune raised his sword once more before stopping. It had only taken half a second.

Crocea Mors trembled in his fingers, like he couldn't bear it's terrible weight. His eyes widened, and for the first time in months, _he felt_. Horror and guilt pooled in his stomach like black sludge. Nora wept openly on the bloodstained floor, and for the first time it seemed, he absorbed the massacre he'd caused. The sword and shield dropped and he fell to his knees. His eyes were wide, and he puked.

He moved to embrace Nora, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and held her tightly as she wailed, waiting for Ruby and Ren to arrive.

 

There was nothing he could do but tell but the truth at the hospital. Nora's Aura had been depleted by the fighting, and when he'd bashed her with Akouo he'd given her a fairly severe concussion. They were outside, in the parking lot, when he'd told them, because he knew what was going to happen afterward. Ren, ever solitary, ever stoic Ren, had been furious. Ruby tried to play peacekeeper, but even still he answered Jaune's story with a brutal punch that knocked him to the ground. He'd grabbed Jaune by the collar and slugged him until his Aura depleted, until his punches were drawing blood and bruises, all while Ruby desperately tried to pull them apart. Ren drew Jaune close by his collar.

“If this is your idea of being strong, you should've never become a huntsman.” Ren hissed, before dropping Jaune on the ground and turning on his heel to go back inside. Ruby went to pick him up, but he halted her with a hand.

“I deserved that Ruby, don't... Don't bother. I'm going back to the hotel.”

She looked on with worry as he picked himself up, dusted himself off, and started walking.

“Jaune!” She called out. He turned to look at her, and his eyes, his hollow, broken eyes rooted her to the spot. “Don't... Don't do anything stupid...”

 

It was dark in the hotel room as he stared at her circlet. Like the cold bronze was the only thing in the world. “Nora... You hurt Nora. Not only can you not protect your friends, you're hurting them by existing.”

Pyrrha looked on in worry. “It was an accident Jaune... Atone for it, apologize, and prove you're still her friend.”

He breathed shakily. Reflecting on all the death he'd trailed in his wake. He felt sick. He could still hear the crack of Akouo impacting against Nora's skull ringing in his ears. He remembered the blood and gore, clear as day. He'd sullied His grandfather's legacy and Pyrrha's memory, tainting their tools with the refuse of hundreds of massacres. Grimm, criminals, it didn't matter. he'd become a monster who clung to hatred to numb the sorrow of her loss.

“I... I... What do I do..?” _You attacked Nora. You betrayed her trust in you. Can't you do anything right? First you're too weak to help Pyrrha... Now you just hurt your friends by existing._ “Everything would have been different if I'd never been born...”

“I would live, _amica mea_ , but it wouldn't have been as wonderful without you. You made my short life worth living, and if I had to trade it for a long one of hero worship and loneliness, I'd take that arrow all over again.” She tried, one more time, to cup his cheeks and claim his lips. To take away the pain that had warped her beloved into this agonized mockery.

“Everything would be better if I'd never been born...” He agonized. _Everything would have been better if you'd died in that forest._

“Ren and Nora and Ruby all love you. You must live for them!” She begged against his lips.

 _Everything would be better if you'd just died_.

His eyes widened in realization, and Pyrrha felt dread in her immaterial heart.

_You're a monster now. You hurt Nora. Who's next? Ruby? Ren? ... They don't need you. They never needed you._

He pressed a kiss to her circlet. “I love you, Pyrrha...” He whispered against the cold metal.

Pyrrha stared into his eyes with fear.

“I'll see you soon.”

She felt her immaterial insides turn to ice. “No no no no no! Jaune no!”

He stood up and gently laid Crocea Mors and Akouo on his bed, and gingerly placed her circlet atop them.

“Jaune! Don't do this! Ruby still needs you! Ren and Nora still need you! Your family still needs you!”

He walked out the hotel room door with purpose in his steps.

“Don't let this break you! It was a mistake!”

He walked up the stairs to the final floor of the hotel.

“We're here for you! I'm here for you! I'll always be here for you! Don't give up! Please!”

He kicked open the door to the roof.

“It hurts, I know it does! It won't stop hurting, but you can still find happiness despite it! You can still find love!”

He walked to the edge of the roof, and stared at the ground below him. He felt fear at the height, but it was eclipsed by longing and wistfulness. He exhaled shakily.

“Jaune, Jaune, Jaune, Jaune... Please... Come back...”

His legs trembled as he pondered what he was about to do, the lights of Pyrrha's home filling his vision like a sea of stars. If he closed his eyes and imagined, it would almost be like leaping into the sky.

“Things are bad now... I know. It will be hard to see the light. It will be hard to atone for what you've done. It will be hard to re-forge the bonds you've damaged. Just... Live. My love. Live, and things will be better. Put one foot in front of the other until you can stand tall again.”

He stepped back, off the edge, with a trembling sigh. He turned his back on the edge and moved to go back inside. She heaved a sigh of relief.

Until she heard it. A whisper barely audible over the bustle of the city. A whisper that made her blood freeze in its immaterial veins. “Don't be a coward.”

She heard the thuds of running footsteps a split second before she felt Jaune pass through her body. She saw him take a flying leap over the edge. Her hands flew to her mouth in shock and horror. Her eyes screwed shut as she heard the loud, wet burst, followed by screams of panic.

 

She drifted down to the ground level, tears of fright and terrible, terrible sorrow tracing rivers down her face. A crowd had gathered around the poor Huntsman's body, his Aura, still that brilliant white, like a star in the heavens, leaked from his mangled remains in wisps. She could see them coalescing into his form, kneeling before the mortal body he'd abandoned, his face pressed to the ground, weeping in anguish. He was a phantom now. Like her. Another wretched creature bound to the world by the pain they had caused others by their absence. By the pain of everything they left unsaid.

Aren't words terrible things? That their loss, their nonexistence, can bring about such misery. For Pyrrha, the pain of the words she left unsaid haunted her and her comrades, her friends, and bound her to them. For Jaune, it would be the same. If only she hadn't been so afraid of rejection. If only he'd been more observant. For the living left behind, it would always be too late.

For the dead...

She wrapped her arms around him from behind, holding him tightly to her breast. She wanted to be able to do this, but not like this. She would have given up Elysium to be able to kiss the awful tears from his cheeks, but not like this. Not by robbing his friends and family of him. She felt her own shoulders start to shake.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” He sobbed, repeating the words like a mantra. _I'm sorry I couldn't be strong for you. I'm sorry I couldn't live up to your memory. I'm sorry I hurt everyone._

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” She she soothed through her tears. _I'm sorry I couldn't be braver. I'm sorry I left you alone. I'm sorry I hurt you._

He turned in her embrace and buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she mirrored the motion. They held each other tightly, as if the rest of the world didn't exist around them.

They were dead, it didn't. Not anymore.

“I-I'm sorry I... Took the coward's way out...” He whispered against her skin.

“There's nothing to be sorry for _amica mea_. You tried your hardest. That's all I ever asked.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

Jaune was buried in the mausoleum of the Nikos family. It had fallen to a distraught Ruby, Ren, and Nora to deliver the awful news. The Nikos family were proud, great warriors, and they grieved their daughter in fierce, dignified silence. What surprised them was the ferocity with which they grieved Jaune as well. They had then surprised the remnants of teams RWBY and JNPR further by demanding that Jaune be buried in their mausoleum, alongside generations of heroes and legends. They had wondered why.

“Pyrrha loved that boy with a ferocity unmatched even by the gods themselves.” Her father had said. “He would have been family soon enough, had the world been a fairer place... And the poor child deserves to be with his beloved, if he cannot be with his family. Such is the compromise we, and they, must endure in this new world.”

 

They were buried in a mausoleum together. A circlet atop an urn of ash. All that remained of two brave heroes who died defending their home. One in body, one in spirit, until the other joined the procession of the dead.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This one was kinda cathartic to write. I had a lot of nasty shit to say about that finale, but I'm coming to terms with it. Regardless, it fucking hurts that Pyrrha's dead, it hurts that Arkos sunk, and RT are evil, evil monsters. To. A. Man.
> 
> This isn't supposed to be glorifying suicide, but there's a lot of my own issues in here too, and I wanted to reunite Pyrrha and Jaune in the afterlife because the cinnamon rolls deserve to be happy dammit.
> 
> I was mega pissed that she died, seemingly to kickstart some actual character development for Ruby and Jaune. I'm not saying she got fridged, but I'm also supremely worried that Pyrrha will be forgotten as the series goes on, which would be the true litmus of a fridging. I'm also so sick of that trope that I just wanted to do a story where the hero doesn't bravely recover and fight on. I wanted to do one where they're emotionally destroyed by the loss and spiral downward, because that's something that happens in life too.
> 
> I'll probably make more Arkos stuff, probably either before everything went to shit, or in an AU where everyone's happy and nothing bad happened. I'm not one of those filthy traitors who jumped ship to Lancaster. I was working on one until the finale happened, and I just had to get this one off my chest. If I triggered anyone, I'm sorry.
> 
> ...RIP Pyrrha. You'll live on forever among your faithful.
> 
> Edit: Fixed some spelling mistakes.


End file.
